Deborah Camp (40 page)

“The crust is the secret,” Mrs. Simper chirped up. “Got to have a flaky crust or the whole pie is a waste.”

Cassie was aware of a sense of dark humor as she edged her way around the rapt bystanders toward her buckboard. A silver dollar and a lemon pie just for killing a man, she thought with a sarcastic snicker. Those men should be right proud of themselves. She felt her contempt for them grow as she wound her way through the crowd. Inching around a family of ten, she thought she’d finally reached the open and be able to breathe again. Instead, she was frozen in her tracks by a sight more horrible than any she had ever witnessed. She clamped her teeth together to keep from screaming and then felt as if she was going to faint.

Facing her was Blackie’s decomposing body, riddled with bullet holes. His face was nothing more than chewed-up meat. His clothes were in tatters. His gun belt and pearl-handled six-shooters lay at his feet. The flies were thick around the corpse and were being fanned away by the deputy sheriff’s twin sons, tow-headed six-year-olds.

Bile rose in Cassie’s throat. Its scalding bitterness completely eliminated the feeling of faintness but replaced it with a wave of nausea. She clamped a hand over her mouth and surged toward the buckboard, stepping on feet and elbowing ribs to clear a path for herself. When she reached the buckboard, she hung onto its side until the horror faded a little from her mind. She shivered, suddenly cold despite the warmth of the summer day, and climbed weakly up onto the hard seat.

“Let’s go, Hector,” she urged, flipping the reins across the animal’s swayed back. “I got better things to do than to stand around looking at a dead man.”

Hector lumbered forward, parting the human sea and heading for the green hills and fresh air.

“I hope Rook doesn’t come back for the funeral,” Cassie
told the slope-backed horse. “I wouldn’t want him to see that. What
is
this world coming to, Hector?”

The noon sunshine so burned her eyes and blurred her vision that she didn’t see the tall man and the short woman standing outside the dry goods store as Hector pulled the buckboard past them.

Rook glanced toward the rickety buckboard, his interest caught by the comically sway-backed horse. Poor old thing, he thought, his gaze moving casually from the horse to the buckboard’s driver and then back to his sister, who was commenting idly about the number of people filling the street and sidewalk. Suddenly his mind caught up with his eyesight and he stiffened, sucked in his breath, and swung around in a frantic search for the buckboard.

“Rook! What is it?” Peggy asked, tugging at his sleeve in concern.

Rook bobbed left and right, desperate for one more glimpse. It was her, his mind told him. That straight back. That pale hair spilling over her shoulders. His memories of her were so intense that he could feel her, smell her, taste her. He stepped off the sidewalk onto the dirt street, dodging buggies and horses in an attempt to spot the buckboard. He saw the old nag turn the corner, but a milk wagon blocked his view of the buckboard and its driver. In frustration he smashed his fist against a pile of crates standing at the curbside waiting to be unloaded.

“Damn it to hell!”

“Reuben Abraham! Watch your tongue! Ladies and children can hear you!”

“Sorry, sis.” He frowned, stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets, and stepped up onto the boardwalk. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” Peggy asked in a chiding voice. “It must have been something. You jumped out into the street with no thought to your safety. Why, you almost got run over by a tally-ho!”

“Is that right? I didn’t notice.” His spirit felt bruised and broken. It
had
been Cassie, but would she have wanted to see him? Was she relieved that he was out of her life? Was she glad Blackie had interrupted their plans on that
last evening, or did she wish she could turn back time and stop it? He glanced at his watch and slipped it back into his vest pocket. “Well, I’ll give the sheriff another half hour and then I’m taking Blackie’s body if I have to knock Sheriff Barnes into next week to do it!”

“Calm down,” Peggy said soothingly, carefully keeping her gaze averted from her older brother’s decaying body. “Did you know that young woman?”

“What young woman?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

“The one you risked your neck over,” Peggy said, laughing under her breath. “Why didn’t you tell me that you’d fallen in love?”

“Fallen in—” He stopped in midsentence and smiled sheepishly at his observant sister. “What makes you so sure I’m in love?”

“I’ve noticed a difference in you,” she said, linking her arm in his and leaning her cheek against his shoulder. “I thought that Blackie’s death might be the cause. Now I know better. I’ve never seen you look so … so lovestruck before!”

“I’m not,” he said, objecting to her sissified description.

“Why, Rook, you should have seen yourself. You looked as if you’d found the Holy Grail! Once you saw her, you forgot where you were, what you were doing, and who you were with, That’s the way Jack looked at me the night he proposed marriage. Women know that look.”

“Is it the same look a fish has when its been hooked and is held out of the water to flop helplessly? That look?”

“Oh, stop it!” Peggy elbowed him in the ribs and laughed. “You know what I’m getting at. You
do
find that young lady fetching, don’t you?”

Rook gazed in the direction Cassie had taken, and his heart jumped as if it meant to leap from his body and go after her.

“She’s like a fever I can’t break,” he admitted. “When I think of her, I get delirious. I guess I’ve got it bad.”

“That’s good,” Peggy said with a sweet smile. “It’s about time you settled down with something other than your work.”

“Did I say anything about settling down?” he asked archly. “I was thinking more along the lines of a roll in the clover.”

“Oh, Rook!” Peggy blushed and averted her gaze from the taunting sparkle in his. “How you do go on! I swear!”

“She blushes just like you,” he said, lifting his sister’s chin with his finger until her eyes met his. “I guess I’m a sucker for a woman who blushes easily.”

“When can I meet her?”

He shook his head and smiled sadly. “It’s not that simple, Peg. There’s another man in her life. He’s probably more her type and will be better for her.”

“I think
she
should make that decision,” Peggy said, but her look of encouragement quickly died when she saw the pain of rejection on her brother’s face.

“I think she might have already done just that.” He glanced in the general direction of the bank and tried to ignore the jealousy that never failed to consume him when he thought of Romeo Rutledge.

Peggy and Rook sat side by side on the train-station bench, both staring down the empty tracks while both followed their own train of thought. With Blackie put to rest, Rook and Peggy were free to continue their separate lives.

Warm sunshine spilled over the platform, chasing away the early morning chill. Rook stretched his legs out in front of him, crossed his ankles, and slipped his hands into his trouser pockets.

Rook’s thoughts had taken him into Shorty Potter’s mine again. In the twilight interior he could see Shorty’s daughter—wise blue eyes, full-lipped mouth, dirt-smudged face, and pale wisps of hair escaping the confines of her dark head scarf. He thought of the last day he’d spent with her in the belly of the hills, tapping away at the earth’s crust and being content just to be close to her. Near the end of that day he’d looked at her—really looked at her—and he’d experienced a stirring metamorphosis. Perhaps some hidden part of him had known that his time with her was nearing an end. Perhaps that was what had triggered the transformation of his feelings for her from wanting to loving. What spark had ignited the fire was insignificant once the inferno took hold of him, consumed him, and forged in him a devotion so intense he knew in those twilight moments that he’d never be the same man again.

It was the best kind of love, he realized as he sunned himself while waiting for the train that would carry him from the sorceress who had cast this magical spell over him. His was a love that had grown in gradual stages;
curiosity, interest, respect, affection, lust, and finally a divine passion for a woman who had earned his esteem long before she had stroked his libido.

How in hell could he leave such a miracle in the inept hands of Romeo Rutledge?

In the distance he heard the train’s woeful whistle and he glanced obliquely at his sister. Peggy blinked away her own thoughts and met his level gaze, reading it correctly.

“You aren’t coming with me to Chicago, are you?”

He smiled. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Are you going to New Orleans instead?”

“No.” He shrugged carelessly. “Not right away, anyway.”

“You’re staying here?”

“Yes, for now.”

Peggy looked at their traveling bags sitting in front of them. “Well, I think I understand. It’s that girl in the buckboard, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Rook resumed his brooding stare at the empty tracks. “I want to see her one more time before I give up on us completely.”

“I don’t blame you for that.” Peggy looked around her at the people gathering on the station platform. She felt the rumble of the approaching train beneath her feet. “Do you think Mama Jewel is seriously considering our request that she stop working and move to Chicago or New Orleans?”

“I believe so. I think she’d like to live with Uncle Hollis and Aunt Pearl, especially since Uncle Hollis is ill and Aunt Pearl needs help with him.”

“Well, Blackie’s funeral was …” Peggy shrugged, unable to find the appropriate words.

“Short and sweet,” Rook supplied with a crooked grin. “The best you can say about this ordeal is that it’s over.” In his mind he reviewed the funeral, with its two mourners and the apathetic preacher who had mumbled a few hasty words before the pine coffin was lowered into the gaping hole.

“I suppose it was inevitable,” Peggy said, her voice soft with sorrow. “Blackie was always in trouble. I knew in my heart that his way of life would exact its price eventually.”
She sat up alertly as the train swung into view, roaring and puffing. “I must admit that I’ll be most happy to return to my quiet, boring life in Chicago.”

“It won’t be quiet or boring for much longer,” Rook said, standing up and stretching lazily. “Your baby will liven things up for you and Jack.” He reached for her hands and helped her to her feet. “Take care of yourself, sis,” he said, bending down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Give my regards to Jack.”

“I shall.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his chin. “It was good to see you again. You’ll come and visit me soon, won’t you?”

“I promise,” he vowed solemnly. He reached down for her valise and carried it over to the porter. “I suppose I’ll check back into my room at the Crescent and return Jewel’s valise to her for the time being.”

“I hope you and your young woman work things out,” Peggy said sincerely. “I know life hasn’t been a bed of roses for you lately. Mama Jewel told me about your run-ins with Blackie. I wish you could have talked him into giving himself up.” She shrugged and glanced toward the train puffing on the tracks. “Maybe you’ll have better luck in convincing Mama Jewel that we’d love it if she’d lead a respectable life from here on in.”

The conductor called “All aboard,” and Rook saw Peggy safely inside the train. He waited until the train had pulled away from the station before he claimed Jewel’s buggy again and rode back to the Crescent with his borrowed luggage.

The man behind the grill at the registration desk chuckled when he looked up and saw Rook’s chagrined expression.

“Did you forget something, or are you finding it hard to leave the charm of Eureka Springs?”

Rook signed his name in the register again. “I forgot something, and Eureka Springs’ charm has nothing to do with my staying here.”

“You know, Mr. Colton, this is a nice town. We all got carried away with the shooting of your brother, but we’re usually civilized. I’m sorry you saw us at our worst.” The
clerk handed over the key to the same room Rook had vacated earlier.

“Every town has its warts,” Rook said, taking the key and giving the man a friendly nod.

“Enjoy your stay, sir.”

“Thanks, I’ll do that.” Rook bounded up the stairs to his second-floor room and unpacked his few belongings, but he didn’t tarry long at the hotel.

Within half an hour he was setting off for Jewel’s. He didn’t expect her to be surprised when he showed up on her doorstep again. Peggy wasn’t the only female who could read his mind better than he could himself. Eureka Springs had calmed down since the outlaw had been buried. People went about their normal business, stopping to chat with one another outside the feed store and the notions store.

Not a bad place to live, Rook thought. Jewel had settled here years before and had never once complained. It was a booming city, that was for sure, and it could use an extra doctor and maybe another lawyer.

Leaving the buggy and horse behind Jewel’s house, Rook wondered if he should wait until the next day to ride out to Cassie’s place. He was anxious to see her, to test the emotional waters.

He found Jewel in the front parlor at her desk. She looked up from the ledger book, nodded sagely, and glanced toward the stained-glass bay window.

Rook followed her gaze and his heart stopped when he saw Cassie standing in front of the window surrounded by an aureole of multihued light. Blues, greens, yellows, and reds sparkled around and across her, thrown by the shards of stained glass. She was a vision in a gray skirt and a white blouse with a high collar and mutton sleeves that ended in tight cuffs. Her glorious hair had been bundled up on top of her head, but sheer wisps of it curled at her temples and the nape of her neck.

“Cassie,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Rook,” she whispered, stunned to see him and clearly impressed with his silvery gray suit, black satin vest, white shirt, and black tie. The hat he held in his hands matched
his suit and was more city than country. His black boots were highly polished. He was clean shaven and his hair was neatly combed. A fading bruise covered his left cheek and a darker one marred his chin. His lower lip had been cut and was healing. Cassie didn’t have to ask what had happened. She had a feeling that any time Rook and Blackie had gotten together it had ended in a fight or worse.